


against you there is no defense

by yeastlings



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Miya Atsumu, Communication, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Gay Pride, Hand Jobs, Hinata Back in Brazil, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Married Life, Mild Kink, Miya Atsumu Has ADHD, Porn with Feelings, Post-Timeskip, Reverse Cowgirl, Riding, Service Bottom, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:00:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27204896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeastlings/pseuds/yeastlings
Summary: Atsumu comes to live with Shouyou in Sao Paulo during the volleyball off season. When he spots a Hinata Shouyou fan jersey, he immediately buys it and asks Shouyou to sign it for "his number one fan, Hinata Atsumu." Feelings arise, and sex ensues.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 20
Kudos: 232





	against you there is no defense

**Author's Note:**

> Head in hands. This was only supposed to be a snippet, because I saw [this fanart](https://twitter.com/duuu_re/status/1319821412568186880?s=20) and immediately thought about Atsumu riding Hinata while wearing the Asas jersey. Then it became...waves hand...all of this.

It was the off season, so Atsumu had come to Brazil to visit Shouyou. Well, “visit” seemed too casual a term when Atsumu was—Shouyou’s heart fluttered—married to him. They’d gotten married in a quiet ceremony the last time Atsumu was in Brazil, one whole year ago.

In spite of this, every time Shouyou thought, “Atsumu-san is living with me,” he felt uncharacteristically hesitant. After all, come fall Atsumu would return to Japan and the V.League. That didn’t mean their relationship ended, of course; just that “living together” was a phrase meant for people who didn’t spend a good chunk of the year on separate continents.

Not that Atsumu was thinking about any of that. Not as far as Shouyou could tell, anyway. He had a bit of an adjustment period when he first arrived, becoming withdrawn and shy when faced with a long-term stay in a place where his tongue still tripped over the language. Self-conscious, he’d sulked and then fought with Shouyou when Shouyou called him out on it.

He’d stormed out of the house—that Shouyou had been so excited to show him, since he’d made quite a few changes to it since the last time—and Shouyou had chased after him shouting, “Tsumu-san, get back here! You don’t even know where anything is!”

“I ain’t a child!” Atsumu had roared over his shoulder.

“Then stop acting like one!”

They’d yelled at each other in the street until a neighbor poked her head out of a second-story window and told them to take their lovers’ quarrel inside, _please_.

“Wait, what’d she say?” Atsumu had demanded.

“She told us to take our quarrel inside,” Shouyou said. “Our lovers’ quarrel, to be specific.”

Atsumu blushed furiously. For all his brashness, he withered away when put under a spotlight he hadn’t erected for himself. “Wh-What? How’d she know?”

Ah, that was right. Atsumu wasn’t used to their relationship being recognized for what it was. In fact, the only time he’d worn his wedding ring on his finger was the day they’d gotten married. After that, he’d slipped it onto a chain he wore around his neck, the glimmering gold hidden underneath his shirt collar. Shouyou caught glimpses of the chain sometimes when he watched Atsumu’s post-game interviews.

Shouyou understood why he needed to do it, but it always gave him a pang. He was admittedly a little disappointed that Atsumu still kept the ring hidden even when he was here in Sao Paulo.

“I think anyone perceptive enough can tell that we’re a couple,” Shouyou said, ready to soothe Atsumu’s undoubtedly frazzled nerves.

But even though he looked like he wanted to sink into the ground, Atsumu sounded pleased as punch when he asked, “Really? Is it that obvious?”

Shouyou had melted then and clasped his hand, guiding him back home so they could make up.

After that, he’d come out of his self-imposed shell, helped along by his eternally childlike fascination for anything new. His eyes shone no matter what Shouyou showed him, whether it was the sprawling Mercadao or the local grocery store. It was on one such outing to a mega mall that Atsumu spotted it: an Asas Sao Paulo fan jersey, with the number 21 and “Hinata” emblazoned across its back.

He pointed at it, crowing: “Shouyou! It’s you!”

Shouyou scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Well, they have one for all the players, you know…”

“I want it!”

“What? No, you don’t have to get it just because—”

“Huh? You’ve got fan merch! That’s super cool, ‘course I want it.”

“Don’t you think the MSBY fan jersey is enough?”

“But that’s for the V.League,” Atsumu said patiently, like Shouyou was being very dense. “This is for Superliga. The number one volleyball league in the world! I’m gettin’ it.”

Shouyou refused to go buy it for him because he was embarrassed, but Atsumu was so excited that he forgot how he hated using his clumsy Portuguese. Shouyou watched through the store window as Atsumu gesticulated and talked loudly with the cashier. Then he returned, beaming, the bright red of the Asas jersey visible even through the plastic bag.

When they got home, he immediately fished out a permanent marker (where had that come from? Shouyou was sure he hadn’t bought any) and held it out to Shouyou along with the jersey. “Please sign my shirt, Ninja Shouyou. I’m your number one fan!”

Shouyou laughed. It was impossible not to humor him when he was so enthusiastic. “Okay, okay. Who should I make it out to?”

“Miya Atsumu. No, wait, that’s not right. Hinata Atsumu!”

Shouyou’s heart skipped a beat. Would it ever stop giving him a thrill to hear that? He signed the jersey, then leaned in to give Atsumu a kiss—only for Atsumu to completely miss the cue and wander off with the jersey, humming to himself. Shouyou frowned. All right then. Atsumu could space out like that sometimes. He would come back eventually.

Except he was gone for a good 20 minutes and counting. Shouyou lay on their bed, watching a beach volleyball match on his phone to distract himself from his annoyance. Where was Atsumu? Shouyou could go look for him, but he was determined to wait. Atsumu was the one who’d wandered off, after all! He was always complaining about how Shouyou didn’t have a single romantic bone in his body, and then he walked off right in the middle of a romantic moment to do—what, even? Spend some quality time with an inanimate jersey? 

Shouyou was not ashamed to admit that he was more than a little miffed by the time Atsumu shuffled into their bedroom. He kept his eyes on the phone, which was why he didn’t see what Atsumu was wearing until he crawled on top of him: the Asas fan jersey, and nothing else.

“Oh,” Shouyou said, no longer paying any attention to the match.

“Hi,” Atsumu said, smiling shyly. Like this wasn’t entirely his own idea.

Shouyou set his phone on the nightstand, annoyance completely evaporated. He raised an eyebrow. “Hello yourself. Can I help you with something?”

“Well, I was thinking that it’s more like I can help _you_ with something. Since I’m your number one fan and all, Shouyou-san.”

“Oh my god,” Shouyou groaned, head falling back onto the pillows. “Tsumu. Are you trying to kill me?”

Atsumu squawked. “W-wait, is this too corny? I can stop—”

Shouyou grabbed his face and shut him up with the much-delayed kiss. He licked his way into Atsumu’s mouth, probing deep with his tongue and then sucking on Atsumu’s tongue until he was whining low in his throat. In spite of the whining, though, he remained pliant and relaxed where he had sprawled on top of Shouyou.

It was hard to breathe, so Shouyou broke the kiss and nudged Atsumu to sit up in his lap. What a sight he made. The jersey was snug around his broad shoulders and its hem fell just past his hipbones, the red contrasting with Atsumu’s smooth, milky skin. Shouyou squeezed Atsumu’s thighs appreciatively, laughing when Atsumu’s cock began to harden.

“You sure you’re not going to end up begging me to help you after all?”

“N-Nah!” Atsumu was flushed to the tip of his ears. “I wanna, um. Wanna service you…” He voice trailed off.

So all this time he’d been building this little scenario in his head, but now that it was time for the execution, he was bashful. Cute. Really cute. Shouyou reached up and tugged on one of his nipples, making Atsumu gasp. “Okay, then. I’d like that. Is there anything you’re not up for?”

Atsumu licked his lips. “You can be a little rough, but no slapping or hair pulling.”

“Bruises?”

“That’s okay.”

“Are you going to keep up this ‘Shouyou-san’ business?”

Atsumu looked to the side. “Only if you wanna,” he mumbled.

“Oh, I want it. Why don’t you ask me again if you can help with anything?”

Atsumu sucked in a sharp breath and looked at Shouyou sidelong. “Shouyou-san,” he said quietly. “I’m your number one fan. Is there anythin’ I can help ya with?”

He was going to help Shouyou into an early grave at this rate. Shouyou stared at his lips, slick and shining where he’d licked them. “Yeah, actually there is. How about helping me out with that pretty mouth of yours?”

“What do you mean?”

Now he was just being coy. “You know what I mean. I want it wrapped around my cock.”

“O-Oh, okay.”

When Atsumu moved to kneel between Shouyou’s legs, Shouyou stopped him and said, “Nuh uh. Not like that.”

This time, Atsumu looked genuinely confused. Shouyou grinned and twirled his finger in a circle. “Turn around. I want to see your ass while you service me.”

And that was how Shouyou ended up with Atsumu’s ass in his face. It bounced up and down as Atsumu went down on him. His tongue was wet and hot as he slurped Shouyou’s cock down, his hands stroking whatever he couldn’t fit into his mouth. Which, well—he could fit a considerable amount. Then he started sucking, bobbing his head along the length of Shouyou’s cock, and Shouyou’s vision whited out for a second. It wasn’t the first time they’d had sex since Atsumu arrived, but Shouyou had gone so long without this that every time was electric.

He grabbed Atsumu’s ass with both hands and squeezed, sighing with pleasure at the soft give and the way he couldn’t fit it all in his hands, big as they were. “Sweet ass. Are you going to let me use this, too?”

Atsumu pulled off Shouyou’s cock long enough to gasp out, “Yes!”

“Good.”

Shouyou slapped Atsumu’s ass lightly, just enough to make it bounce. Had it gotten even bigger? That was worth investigating. He squeezed and bounced Atsumu’s ass a little more, then spread the cheeks apart and received his second surprise: Atsumu’s pink and puckered hole, stretched open and slick with lube.

“Wow,” he breathed. “You’re really going to be the death of me.”

There was a wet pop, then Atsumu’s voice, a little petulant: “You were the one who asked if you could use my ass! What did ya think that meant?”

“I was thinking like, feeling it up! Maybe jerking off on it! I didn’t know—wait, is that why you were gone for so long?”

He could see the tip of Atsumu’s ears, red as the jersey he wore. “Obviously!”

Shouyou couldn’t believe they were having this conversation with Atsumu’s ass in his face. “How was I supposed to know? You just walked off without saying anything!”

“Well, that’s ‘cause I was really excited about the jersey! I mean, it wasn’t horny at first, but then you signed it for Hinata Atsumu and I had this funny thought, like if I wear it won’t I look like a groupie, or some kind of trophy wife? It kind of turned me on.”

For a moment, Shouyou was struck silent. Ridiculous. Atsumu was ridiculous—and incredibly endearing. He had so much pride in Shouyou, so much affection and adoration, that Shouyou was still floored. It wasn’t as if he doubted his own worth, but he didn’t know what he’d ever done to attract as much love as Atsumu laid at his feet.

“Shouyou?” Atsumu had turned his head to look at him, eyes concerned. “Do you wanna stop?”

“No,” Hinata said. “No, not unless you want to.”

“I’m…I’m good. I wanna keep going.”

“Okay. Okay. Then I want to fuck you. Actually—I want you to ride me. Show me how much you want to service me.”

The answer, as it turned out, was “very much.” Shouyou had gone soft, but all it took was a few strokes of Atsumu’s hand and he was straining again, more than ready for Atsumu to put the condom on and lower himself onto his cock. Shouyou put one hand on Atsumu’s hip, steadying him. They really needed to fuck in this position more often. There was something obscene and therefore incredibly arousing about seeing the muscles around Atsumu’s hole twitch as they stretched wide to allow Shouyou’s cock to sink inside.

When he had taken it all in, he sat in Shouyou’s lap for a moment, gasping and whimpering softly. It took all of Shouyou’s restraint not to move, even though he was losing his mind at how tightly Atsumu’s hole was squeezing him. He stroked Atsumu’s hipbone in soothing circles.

“It’s okay, Tsumu. Take your time.”

“Sh-Shouyou-san…it, ah, feels really full!”

Oh. Right. They were still going with the whole “trophy wife” concept. If Shouyou had liked it before because he thought it was cute of Atsumu to fantasize about such a thing, he was now fully on board. His signature in the lower right hand corner of Atsumu’s jersey, the “Hinata Atsumu” he’d written with a heart next to it—they had a distinctly different feeling now that Atsumu was in his lap, rocking his hips back and forth as he started fucking himself onto Shouyou’s cock. _This is Shouyou’s_ , they announced.

Or maybe it was more accurate to say that it was Atsumu announcing, _I’m Shouyou’s_. In spite of his reticence, there were many ways in which he demonstrated his love and pride. There were the subtle ways he announced this to the world—the impossible curve of his body when he bent over backwards for a toss, the softness in his voice when he talked about Shouyou in interviews—and then there were the ways he demonstrated it to Shouyou when it was just the two of them.

He demonstrated it in the way he fisted the sheets in his hands, knuckles white as he struggled to keep himself upright and steady. He demonstrated it in the way he threw his head back, exposing the column of his throat and letting Shouyou hear every moan, every gasp. He demonstrated it in the way he called for Shouyou and told him how good his cock was, how hungry he was for it. It was ostentatious, maybe a little exaggerated, but that was the whole point. He was putting on a show for Shouyou—loudly, shamelessly, so that Shouyou would know how much he was wanted.

Honestly, Shouyou was going to die young and it was going to be the fault of one Hinata Atsumu.

Remembering how Atsumu had told him that it was okay to be a little rough, Shouyou grabbed his hips and dug his fingers in. Atsumu moaned in appreciation, fucking himself back more desperately.

“That’s right,” Shouyou encouraged him. “You’re so good, Tsumu. You’re working so hard for me. I love it.”

“Shouyou-san! I, ah, I love it too! Love servicing you, love worshipping your cock.”

Shouyou groaned. He couldn’t help thrusting up, just to see what Atsumu would do—and he took it, letting Shouyou take charge of the pace. Shouyou snapped his hips forward, quickening the rhythm, and Atsumu matched him, even though it couldn’t have been easy with how deep Shouyou was driving into him. The rim of his hole was red and swollen, twitching every time he spasmed around Shouyou’s cock. His thighs trembled, and sweat dripped down the back of his neck.

“Tsumu—ah—” Shouyou held onto Atsumu’s hips, stilling him. “Are you—is this okay? If it’s too much—”

Atsumu’s voice was ragged as he gasped, “Hinata Shouyou, can ya please _shut the hell up_ and get back to usin’ me like the cocksleeve I wanna be?”

“Oh. Fuck. Yeah, yeah, okay.”

It wasn’t like he was going to last that much longer, anyway. Not after what Atsumu had said, and certainly not with the filthy sight he made bouncing on Shouyou’s cock like he was starving for it. Shouyou groped his ass and gave it to him good and hard, staring at the signature on Atsumu’s back. Hinata Atsumu: sweet and loyal and so eager to be Shouyou’s.

“Tsumu,” he moaned. “I’m gonna come, gonna dump my load inside you!”

“Yes, yes, yes, oh please, want it so bad, wanna be your perfect little cum bucket—”

“Oh, _fuck_.”

Shouyou’s fingers dug into Atsumu’s hips so hard that it was sure to bruise. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he came, every squeeze of Atsumu’s hole wrenching another jolt of white hot pleasure out of him. This was definitely going on his list of “top most blissful seconds of my life.” When it was over, he collapsed against the pillows, breathing hard.

There was a whimper, and the weight on his legs eased as Atsumu pulled off his cock and flopped down at the foot of the bed. Shouyou chuckled, forcing his lethargic body into motion so he could dispose of the condom. Atsumu didn’t even stir, so after he washed his hands Shouyou helped him sit up against the pillows, peppering his face with kisses and murmuring endearments.

He glanced down at Atsumu’s cock, half hard and neglected. He wrapped a hand around it and squeezed gently. “Want me to take care of you now?”

“Y-Yeah. Just lemme take the jersey off…don’t want it to get dirty.”

Shouyou watched in amusement as Atsumu stripped off the jersey, folded it carefully, and set it on the nightstand. “You know, even if it got dirty you could just buy another one and I’d sign it. I’d sign a hundred of them for you.”

“S’not about whether I can get another one! It’s about taking good care of this one.”

Shouyou knew that the jersey was Atsumu’s way of declaring his feelings, and that was touching, but in the end it was just a piece of cloth. He supposed all that mattered was that it meant a lot to Atsumu. Besides, it made him feel warm to see the tenderness with which Atsumu treated something so silly, just because it reminded him of Shouyou.

He got the lube from their nightstand and slicked up his hand, wrapping it around Atsumu’s cock and teasing the tip with his thumb. That never failed to make Atsumu go wild, and soon enough he was tossing his head on the pillows and moaning Shouyou’s name. His face was red and sweaty, and his bangs—black again, a change that had caught Shouyou by surprise when Atsumu arrived, even though he’d seen the pictures—stuck to his forehead. This was something else he gave Shouyou, though a lot more shyly: a side of him that was messy, needy, and falling apart at the edges.

“Shouyou, Shouyou, I’m really close!”

“Shh, yeah, I know. All you have to do now is relax and feel good. I’ll take care of you.”

Atsumu reached up to pinch and tug at his nipples, and Shouyou got his third and final surprise, the one that really took his breath away: the slender gold band glinting on the fourth finger of Atsumu’s left hand, out in the open for anyone to see. It fit perfectly, like it had always been there.

“Atsumu,” Shouyou said, his chest constricting.

But Atsumu didn’t hear him. He was crying out and bucking his hips up as his orgasm hit. Hot, thick cum coated Shouyou’s hand and splattered onto Atsumu’s stomach. Some of it flecked his pubic hair, glistening white and sticky among the wiry strands.

Shouyou kissed his forehead and went to grab a wash cloth. He cleaned Atsumu up, taking extra care with his long, slender fingers and perfectly filed nails. He couldn’t stop staring at the ring, and Atsumu, who looked like he was falling asleep, finally noticed.

He blushed. “I thought, y’know, it would be perfect since I was supposed to be a trophy wife and all. And I mean, we actually _are_ married, and it seems like it’s okay if I wear it here…”

He trailed off and looked to the side. Shouyou’s heart grew so full that he was afraid it would burst out of his chest. He lifted Atsumu’s hand and kissed the back of it. “You can wear it wherever you want. It makes me really happy to see it on your hand, but no matter what, I’ll know that you’re mine.”

“O-Oh, okay. I wanna keep it on, then. While I’m here. Will you wear yours, too?”

He looked so hopeful. Was there any doubt of what Shouyou’s answer would be? He took Atsumu’s face in his hands and kissed him, long and deep.

“Yes,” he said softly when they pulled apart, staring at the way Atsumu’s mouth was still parted, eager and inviting. “Of course I will. After all, I’m yours too, aren’t I?”

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from a Sappho fragment: "Love makes me tremble yet again, sapping all the strength from my limbs; Bittersweet undefeated creature—against you there is no defence.” I'm not sure which translation it is, but I saw the fragment on the [Sappho Bot account](https://twitter.com/sapphobot).
> 
> There are places in the world where you can be visibly queer and (reasonably) safe, and there are many more where you can't. But nowhere in the world is there a place where happiness for a queer couple is guaranteed, because visibility is defiance, and defiance can breed violence. Nevertheless, visibility is also a proclamation of love, and I like to think that for these two fictional volleyball gays, that is the future that lies ahead of them.
> 
> Thank you as always for reading. Kudos and comments are much appreciated, and if you'd like to keep up with what I'm posting, please subscribe to [my author profile!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/papayascents/)


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